Spider Man 07
by NetBladeZero
Summary: 17 year old Peter Parker is bitten by a spider, and well you know the rest!
1. CHAPTER 1: Along Came a Spider

Spider-Man 07

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CHAPTER 1: Along Came A Spider

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_New York wasn't exactly a city someone could call 'paradise'. It was overcrowded, not everyone had a car, or even a job. Some people decided to make money another way: by taking it from others. There were also heroes: The Fantastic 4, whose name described them, the X-Men, a group of heroic 'mutants' that were led by a Professer Xavier, the huge, green Hulk, and others. You can't have heroes without villans. Tons of them. so many they outnumber the heroes. But this story is of a hero in which the citizens of the non-paradisaic city had never seen before. This is the origin of Spider-Man._

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Peter Parker was an average teen, or maybe not-so-average. He had short, brown hair. He did not live with his parents, in fact he never even knew them. He lived with his Aunt May and Uncle Ben. He was among the smartest teens, especially when it came to science. For this reason, he was among the least popular. He was constantly tormented by a group of bullies, the biggest and strongest leader of them was Flash Thompson. Peter did not like Flash one bit, 1) because he bullied him, and 2) he was sitting right next to the girl he loved the most, Mary Jane on the school bus this morning. He was even had his arm around her and was stroking her long, red hair! Peter wished to do whatever he could to make Flash miserable. But he had his health to worry about, so he refrained. It's not like he could do anything anyway. 

Peter had no seat on the school bus this morning. Sure, there were plenty of spaces, but the teens occupying these seats denied him the privilege of sitting next to them. So, Peter was forced to stand the whole route to his school, Midtown High as the bus traveled along the bumpy road.

At school, Peter went the daily routine: Being tripped at least three times before getting to his locker, being hit by at least ten spitballs, the taking of his glasses and the little-surprise-in-your-locker-that-jumps-out-at-you-causing-you-to-fall-and-be-laughed-at-by-everyone. The genius boy did not even know how the bullies got those things in there. But Peter was not concerned with those things today. He was focused on his field trip. His class was going to a Biology lab, or Bio-Lab. There, they were researching spiders. It was like a zoo. A spider zoo.

**Osborn Mansion**

"Harry, It's time to go." yelled an older man with brown, slightly curly hair that curved backward, putting on his overcoat over his black suit.

A young man with similar hair but a younger appearance came down the stairs. In fact he was a spitting image of the older man when he was his age. He wore a striped brown shirt. "But dad, I don't even want to go to that stupid geek house."

"It's not a 'geek house', son." the man corrected him. "It's a very sophisticated place. I bet your friend Pete's going."

Harry was annoyed. "Of course _he's_ going. He's somewhat of a 'nerd'."

"Whatever. Look Harry, we're already late. They're probably already on their way there. Come on, we're taking the Rolls."

"Al-right,"

**The Bio-Lab**

"Okay, Midtown High Seniors," said a teacher, Mr.Kroyen, who said the word senior with emphasis to signal them that they were to act orderly. He was a normal height black man with small glasses with circle-shaped lenses."

We're going to enter the lab in an orderly fashion," he said, putting emphasis on the word orderly. "Do not embarrass our school."

_I can't believe I have to tell these things to Seniors!_ He thought.

Peter took the lead in walking to the institute. "He's so lame," he heard a male student say. He ignored this comment. He was very excited, until he was tripped and almost trampled by the rest of the class. His glasses were thrown from his face and landed a few inches from his face. He reached for them but they were smashed by a booted foot.

"No!" he yelled. He looked up to see the culprit. It was Flash. Peter rose up to his face, an angry look about it.

"Oops, my bad," Flash said sarcastically. This only made Peter angry, which his face displayed. He clenched his fists.

"Look at this!" Flash taunted. "Whatcha gonna do?"

"No!Stop!" yelled Mary Jane, running over. "Leave him alone, Flash!"

"Hey!" yelled Mr. Kroyen, also running over. "What are you two doing over here? The rest of the class is already inside, come on."

Flash turned to Peter. "Good thing my girl stopped me. I'll deal with you tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" MJ asked. "_Your _girl? What did I tell you about calling me that?" She walked off furiously.

"Wait, I'm sorry!" Flash pleaded, running after her.

Peter picked up what used to be his glasses. He was tired of this. He wished he had the strength to show Flash he would not be pushed around anymore. But he didn't, so he couldn't. He figured he'd have to accept that, and walked toward the lab.

A black Rolls Royce pulled up to the building. Out came a young, teenage boy with curly brown hair and his father.

"Have a good day, Harry," the father said, and got back into this car, driven by a butler.

"Peter!" the now glasses-less teen heard from behind him. It was Harry Osborn, his best friend for years.

"Oh, hey Harry!" Peter said, happy to finally have some company on this trip.

"Harry!" the man from before yelled after getting back out if his car. "Is this Peter?"

"Yeah, dad, Peter, this is my father, Norman Osborn. Dad, this is Peter Parker."

Both shook hands. "Harry told me your quite the science whiz," Norman said. "He says you helped him many times in school."

"Yeah, you could say that," Peter said. "But I'm nothing compared to you."

"That maybe true, but you've got potential. I'm sure you'll be very successful Peter."

"Thanks, Mr.Osborn."

"Please, call me Norman."

"Thanks, Norman."

"Well, Peter, Harry, I'm gone. I'm a busy man today." He got back into his car and it pulled away. Peter and his friend went inside the building.

"You're fortunate, Peter." Harry said.

"Why?"

"My Dad. He's crazy about you. If I called him Norman I'd be grounded."

"Really..." Peter said. He held a black camera to his eye and pointed it toward a small, black spider in a glass cage. With a click, he snapped the photo at the exact time that the spider jumped from the branch it was sitting on to another. It made it in one bound.

"Isn't that amazing, Harry?" Peter asked his friend. "This spider has the ability to jump to catch its prey."

"Sorry Peter, but I'm not thinking about little bugs. I'm wondering when we're going home."

"Why would you want this to end?" asked Peter. "They're so fascinating! If I could be like that spider, just for one day, even one hour,I'd be happy!"

"Whatever Peter."

"Well, we'd better be getting back with the class, before we're left."

The two teens headed back to the class. A woman began to speak to them about what the scientists study at the lab. All but two, who of which included Mary Jane and Peter, were bored and paying attention to something else. Harry, however, was paying attention to Mary Jane. He walked up to her, who was looking at a spider cage.

"Hey MJ," Harry greeted her.

"Hi, Harry, when did you get here?"

"Just now."

"Oh."

"You know, that spider over there has the power to jump to catch its prey," Harry said, pointing over at the spider cage a few feet away.

"Cool. I don't think there is a spider in this cage." To the naked eye, there was just a small tree in the cage. That is, until a brown lump on a branch started crawling.

"Oh, there it is," said MJ, laughing. "These things are interesting, aren't they?"

"Sure.You know, some spiders can you know, change color. It's a, um, defense mechanism."

Peter however was now alone. You could probably guess who took the chance to mess with him. Flash walked up behind him, along with his cronies.

"You know you've still got it coming, Parker." Flash said.

Peter was not concerned. He started to take pictures of spiders.

"Hey, you," Flash said, pushing him. "I'm talking to you."

Peter looked at him. "Back off, Flash."

"Ooh," one of Flash's friends said. "Parker's finally got some heart!"

**Upstairs Lab **

"Yes, sir." said a black scientists in a white lab coat, talking on his cell phone. "The research is going quite successful."

The person on the other end of the line said some words only understood by the scientist.

"Oh, the new species. It's fine. We discovered that it has abilities far more advanced than all of the other species of spider discovered. It is quicker, smarter, and way stronger than the others. Okay. Okay. See you later."

The man turned to look at the cage of the newly discovered species. His heart nearly stopped as he noticed he'd left the door open. He must have forgotten to close it when he heard his phone ring. He shook with fear. He had no idea where the spider was, or what would happen if it bit him. He felt very much relieved as he saw the spider sitting in the darkness next to the monitor of his computer. The man got on some gloves and carefully picked up the red and blue bug and placed it back into its cage, quickly closing the door. The man let out a 'whew' and headed downstairs to take his break.

What went unnoticed by him was a tiny, clear sack left next to the monitor.

Two tiny, clear circle-shaped eggs moved. Out of each slid out a very tiny, baby spider. They were spitting images of their mother, having blue bodies with red spots. They each crawled their way out of their eggs, and down and off the desk. They found the stairs, and climbed on the walls, heading downstairs.

Flash was speechless. Due to Peter's sudden bravery, and his friend's taunting, he couldn't think of a word to say. He was quite embarrassed. This ceased when he spied a tiny red and blue spider on the ground. He immediately stepped on it, ending it's short life. Peter watched in horror.

"How...how could you?" Peter asked. "It was so innocent.."

"By tomorrow, Parker, you're going to be just like that spider. Crushed." With that, Flash walked off. One of his followers said something, and Flash palmed his head and pushed him away.

Peter was too bus thinking that he had worsened his own life to notice a second spider climbing up his pant leg. He continued taking snapshots of the spiders. He scratched an itch in his shirt, and caught up with the rest if his class. The small spider avoided his giant hand and moved forward.

He saw Mary Jane, still watching some spiders. He approached her and held up his camera. "For the school paper?" he asked the red-head.

"Sure," she answered, she stood in front of the cage and smiled. Peter snapped the photo. This felt like the best day of his life. He scratched his chest once again, and prepared to press the zoom button on his camera. Before he got there, he felt a tickling feeling in the top of his hand. Before he could look the tickling shifted to a feeling like two tiny needles puncturing the skin. He looked as a red and blue spider was there, keeping its tiny fangs in his skin. He shook it off, dropped his camera and rushed to the bathroom. The feeling in his hand changed to a burning sensation.

He held his hand in agony, falling to his knees. He looked at the bite mark. It was white and very soft to the touch. When he touched it, it burned. He began to feel very dizzy. He fainted, right there on the cold bathroom floor.

Peter opened his eyes. He was still there on the floor. He rose up, and rubbed his head. He still felt a little woozy. He checked his wristwatch, and found he had been there for an hour! He rushed out of the bathroom, to find that the class had already left him. He didn't know what to do, and panicked. A finger tapped him on the shoulder.

It was Mary Jane. She held a broken camera in her hand.

"Here's your camera, Peter." she said. "Or, what used to be your camera."

Peter took the camera. "Thanks."

"Are you feeling alright? Your eyes are half-open."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little headache."

"Good, then let's go before we're stuck here."

Peter and MJ left, and made it just before the bus took off. Peter sat and took all the paper balls and spitballs on the bus because he felt to sick to do anything.

Mary Jane walked him home. Peter did not tell his aunt and uncle what happened. It slipped his mind. He just wanted to get in bed. When he did so, he found he could not stay there. He shivered as he felt cold and dizzy. He rolled off of his bed, pulling the covers off of it. he wrapped his shivering body up with the comforters, as he laid there. He drifted off to sleep without noticing.

When he woke up, everything was slightly blurry, but then cleared. He rose up, and his vision cleared. Peter was very surprised. He could see without glasses! He discovered a brand new pair on his desk next to his bed. his aunt and uncle had bought him a new one. But when he put them over his eyes, his sight was very blurred. He set the glasses back where he found them.

He examined his shirtless upper body in a large mirror on the wall. As his eyes moved down to his torso, he saw a 6-pack!

"What the?" he said, discerning the sudden transformation of his torso from a normal, skinny one to a muscular, well-defined one.

He looked at his arms. He flexed his biceps, making tiny veins appear.

"Peter?" asked the voice of Peter's aunt, May, from behind the door. "I saw you on the floor last night. I was wondering if you were alright."

Peter examined his newly hot bod in the mirror once more. He made a muscle with his arms up. "Well Aunt May.."

He rubbed his hand over his new abs.

"I'm fine!"

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	2. CHAPTER 2: Side effects

**C****HAPTER 2: Side-effects**

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"Okay dear, get dressed, I'll be downstairs cooking breakfast." 

"Okay, Aunt May."

Peter felt really hungry, having not eaten barely anything the day before. He put on a brown sweater he raced down the stairs. He was alarmed by his amazing speed. His footsteps were rapid. When he was halfway down the stairs, he grabbed the banister with, swung himself over it, and landed in the living room with a _thud_.

Aunt May and Uncle Ben were in the kitchen. Ben ate bacon and eggs and read the newspaper, having one leg over the other.. May fried the bacon and eggs on the stove. She was an absolute pro at this. Peter walked normally into the kitchen and sat down at the wooden brown table.

"Well look who's finally up." said Ben, "I thought you were sick."

"What can I say? I got better!" said Peter with a smile on his face, opening his arms.

"You young folks get better in an instant. I wish I was like you. I still hurt from things that happened years ago."

"We're glad you're better, dear." said May, placing a plate of hot bacon and eggs before Peter. His mouth watered as the wondrous smell greeted his nose. She kissed him on the forehead."Now eat up. You're already kind of late for school today."

"Oh, school." Peter said. Then something hit him. Flash's words. He'd said he'd 'take care of him' today. Peter smirked as he bit a piece of crispy bacon. Maybe yesterday he would have been afraid, but today, with his new muscles, he'd show Flash a thing or two.

"Why Peter," May asked with a somewhat confused look, "Where are your glasses?"

"It's a miracle," Peter said jokingly, "I can see perfectly without them."

"It sure is," said May. "No more buying pair after pair." She went back to her cooking.

Peter wolfed down the rest of his breakfast and then gulped down a glass of orange juice. He threw his backpack over his shoulder, and hurriedly walked toward the front door.

"Whoa there, Peter." said Ben. "Where's the fire?"

Peter stopped and began tapping his foot on the ground. "I just really want to get to school today." .

"I could drive you there if you'd like."

"That's okay. I'll catch the bus."

"Okay. See you, Michaelangelo." Michaelangelo was a nickname Ben would call Peter because of his creative mind.

Peter left home and head down the street. He thought about what was going to happen between him and Flash. This resolved him to walk faster. He found himself walking faster and faster, until he was running. He was amazed at the speed he was going. He stopped running when he spotted a familiar red-head female standing at the bus stop.

"It's Mary Jane," he said to himself. "What do you know, she's late too!" He thought back to yesterday afternoon. The spider bite. He was taking pictures of Mary Jane, and he ran off. Mary Jane had walked him home.

"What do I say to her?" he said, his pointing finger and thumb on his chin. " 'Thanks Mary Jane'," he said. " 'Sorry for running off like'... No that's no good."

Peter was so deep in thought that he failed to notice a bus going past. Mary Jane boarded it. When he heard the sound of the bus pulling off, Peter snapped out of it and gave chase.

"Hey, wait!" he yelled as he darted into the street, one hand out. He was too far away for the bus driver to hear. He watched as the bus drove away.

"Oh, great," Peter said as he dropped his arm to his side. This reminded him of all those other school days when he missed the bus. Everyone would cackle as he tried to catch up to the yellow bus.

Suddenly he felt a tingling feeling around his skull.

"HEY! Get out of the way!" He heard from several feet behind him, along with loud honks. In a reflex, he flipped up about 5 feet in the air, at the exact time a red mustang would have run him over.

He landed back on the street. "Whoa..." he said, running his hand through his brown hair. His eyes were widened. "How'd I do that? That was amazing! I could _sense_ that car coming toward me! I dodged that car like it was a normal thing!"

Peter set aside a few seconds to catch his breath. He leaned against a brick building in an alley. "But why...What is happening to me? The new muscular appearance, the speed, the sensing danger, the incredibly high jumping! Why am I going through these changes? What is next?"

Peter placed his right hand on his warm forehead. He looked forward, at the soft, white sore that was still visible on his wrist. He took his hand off his head and reached with his other hand to touch the wound. It felt soft and rubbery. Peter pressed down on it with two fingers. It was like pressing a button made of skin. A thin, silvery line shot out of a tiny hole on the white spot and stuck itself to the brick wall.

"Eww!" Peter said in disgust. "Is this stuff pus?"

Peter discovered that if he pressed down on his palm with his middle and index fingers, it would send pressure to the white mark and the same white line of the mysterious silky substance would shoot out. He also learned he could retract the stuff, using it as a grappling hook of sorts. He could shoot it at objects and pull them close. Also, he could end the line when he wished.

He fired another line at the brick wall. He then retracted it, making the line pull him toward the wall. He reached out and touched the wall with his left when he was pulled close enough. When he tried to remove his hand, it would not comply.

Peter touched the wall with his free hand and pushed against it. He found this hand became stuck too. He placed his left foot on the wall. Even though it was in a shoe, the foot stuck to the wall, along with its other members.

Peter, standing there with two hands and a foot stuck to a brick wall, decided to give in and place his free foot on the wall. Amazingly, the stickiness of his hands lessened, and he was able to remove his left hand. He placed it higher on the wall, and then did the same with his other hand, then his feet. He repeated the process until he reached the top of the building. He grabbed and squeezed a pipe and it was crushed easily by his grip.

"Wow..." he said. "I just climbed up the wall of a five-story building! And crushed a metal pipe with my _bare hands_!"

He looked at the palms of his hands closely. He could see tiny, sharp, brown pointy things, invisible to the naked eye.

"Wait a minute...the sticky threads...the climbing...the super-strength...Am I turning into a human spi..."

Peter's mouth hung open. "Spider! That spider bite! I'm turning into a spider!"

Peter was frightened. When he was a small child, he believed that if you were bitten by a spider, you'd become one! But he'd dismissed this belief when he was about 7 or 8.

"Get yourself together, Peter. That's impossible. I must have gained the spider's abilities, that's all. The sticky thread must be a web, and those tiny hairs must be hairs that stick to walls."

Peter got a bright idea. He rolled his sleeves up and noticed another white circle on his left wrist. He shot a line of web at a building across from him, using his new technique of pressing his middle and index fingers down on his palm. As he'd thought, it stuck to the wall. He tugged on the web, testing its strength. It would take force to pull the line off. This was perfect for his experiment. He stood at the edge of his building. He held on to the web with both hands and jumped off. He swung in an arc through the air, too high for anyone on the ground to see him. As he neared the next building he let go of the web and landed on the side of the building. He crawled his way to the rooftop.

"This is amazing," he said, "I feel like a super hero. I just hope I don't wake up tomorrow with eight eyes. Wait, why am I outside anyway?"

Something hit him. "Oh my goodness! I forgot! I was on my way to school!" He checked his wristwatch. "Whoa! It's 12:00! Lunchtime! Should I take the bus...nah! I'll _swing_ to school with my new web!"

Peter jumped from rooftop to rooftop, occasionally jumping off to swing. He remembered to stay so high that no one was able to see him. He landed in front of the front door at 12:05. He walked in like a normal student who wasn't a human/spider. Of cpurse, he hadn't forgotten Flash Thompson's little threat.


	3. CHAPTER 3: Scores Settled

**A/N: **Just a small note, I'm trying to change my writing style a little. I don't know how you feel, but I think my stories are a little on the boring side, so if you notice this chapter is different from the others that's why! please tell me in your reviews if it is better, worse or the same! A little hint: I'm trying to write this story like it is being written by Lemony Snicket, whom I believe to be one of the best authors ever. (I hope that doesn't drive you away.)

**CHAPTER 3: Scores Settled  
**

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**Midtown High Cafeteria **

Peter walked through the double metal doors and into the cafeteria. It was bustling with the regular hubbub: boys were having conversations about girls, and which one they were taking to prom, girls were talking about which boy would pick them up in their fancy cars, "nerds" talking about what was on the _Sci-Fi_ channel last night and about two conversations actually about anything school-related.

Peter's eyes searched for Mary Jane. He scoped out the huge body of students with his new 20/20 vision. There she was, grabbing a tray and getting into the lunch line. And Flash was right behind her!

MJ felt a tap on her shoulder. "Excuse me miss..."

MJ turned around to see Flash. He grabbed her arm with his muscle-defined arm and yanked her close. "Flash what are you-"

_SMOOCH!_

Flash planted one right on MJ's lips. Everything stopped. All conversations, no matter what the subject, ceased. All eyes were intently focused on the two.

"Ugh!" MJ yelled, wiping her lips off with the back of her hand. Her hand moved quicker than a lightning bolt striking the ground with full force as she slapped Flash's lights out (also with full force) and walked out of the lunchroom. Everyone went back to their business, but not before laughing their lungs out. Even the "nerds" whom Flash tormented daily screamed with laughter. Flash stood there rubbing his now apple, strawberry, raspberry, cherry or whatever fruit you wish to use in this scenario-colored cheek. A smiling Peter walked past him.

Flash walked up to him. "So, you actually built up the courage to come to school, huh Parker?" He cracked his knuckles in an attempt to frighten Peter.

Peter stopped walking. He didn't even turn to look at Flash. "Oh, its you. Be a good little boy and wait until I get back. I've got a friend to talk to." Peter said friend with emphasis.

"Why you little..." A vein was throbbing on his forehead. Ever since yesterday, his rep was going down he drain. His relationship wasn't going well at all, not to mention what just transpired. And now, Peter, the one he had the most fun messing with, was getting brave! Flash ventured back to his table, where his so-called friends teased him about having his butt handed to him, a phrase which here means "embarrassed in front of the whole school, not to mention having his cheek painted red by his girlfriend's palm".

Peter went through the double doors and went down the hall to the bathroom. Mary Jane was there, rinsing her face off with water. as if to drown a huge, icky, green, six-legged insect that had been left there by her greatest rival. (I hope that is like Lemony Snicket would say it.)

"MJ," Peter said.

"Leave me alone Flash!" she yelled without turning around.

"MJ, it's me, Peter."

MJ turned around. "Oh hey Pete, your here. I thought you were still sick. I was worried."

"It's okay. I'm fine now. Especially after seeing_ that_."

MJ laughed, "Oh really? Makes sense you'd enjoy Flash in pain."

"Yeah. That picture will be in my mind forever." Peter smiled. The girl he loved slapping the mess out of the boy he hated. "I just pictured it!"

Mary Jane's face noticed something. "Peter...Your eyes are blue. I never noticed."

Peter blushed. "That Flash is a real jerk, eh?" he said, changing the subject.

"He sure is. I don't know what I was on when I agreed to go with him."

"Is this in any way a hint of your eventually breaking up with him?"

MJ turned and looked in a mirror. "Maybe. After this, I may be through with relationships."

"Oh, " was all Peter could manage. His heart sank. What was he to do? It seemed even though Flash embarrassed himself, he won. He'd made MJ not want to be in relationships!

"Well, let's get out of here before some one finds out you're in the girls' bathroom."

Peter and MJ returned to the lunchroom. MJ was greeted by several cheers from a table of nerdy kids. She smiled at them and got in line. Peter, who was greeted by menacing looks from Flash, got behind her. MJ got some pizza, pepperoni. Peter got a chicken sandwich. They sat at the same round table they always sat in, ever since they were freshmen. Harry had been waiting for them there.

"What were you two doing, together?" the rich kid asked.

"Uh, just talking." answered MJ.

"Alone?"

"Yeah so? Do you have to be around to supervise us, Harry?"

Harry was silent. "Peter, where're your glasses?"

"Oh, I decided to get contacts," he lied. Fortunately, MJ was looking elsewhere. Peter wanted to keep his overnight "transformation" a secret to as many people as he could. He took a bite of his sandwich. A familiar shadow cast itself over him. Peter's head tingled, and he ducked away as a fist slammed on the table.

"Enough waiting Parker," Flash said. "It's time. You've seemed to have forgotten your place lately. Time to learn your lesson."

Peter cocked an eyebrow. "Not now son, let me finish eating."

Flash had enough. "Enough of your stupid jokes. You think you're funny, freak? You won't be laughing when I get through with you!"

He put his dukes up. "Come on Parker."

Peter smirked, "Ladies first."

"That's it! Euuargh!" Flash swung a left at Peter. Peter felt a tingling around the surface of his skull, and merely sidestepped the blow. Everything seemed to slow down. All the voices of students who had come together to watch the fight, mostly cheering Flash on, were much slower and deeper.

"What the?"

"How'd he do that?"

"What? Come Here you freak!"

Flash swung his right at Peter, but with the same result. Peter dodged it like it was a flying snail.

"Wraaggh! Darn you, stay still!"

One of Flash's followers sneakily crept behind Peter. Flash looked at him. That was the signal. The teen ran toward Peter, but the newly super-powered teen, felt a tingling around his cranium, and at the very last second, flipped 3 feet into the air, just like he had done a few hours earlier.

Flash swung a right at Peter. To Peter, it was slothlike, which in this situation means "going so slow it can be avoided with slow, simple turn to the side". Peter was awestruck at this new realm of existence, where everything moved five times slower. Flash threw another punch at Pete, who this time caught the arm and squeezed it, causing the bully much pain. This wasn't a hard feat for Peter, armed with his new amazing strength. If he could now crumble a metal pipe under his fist, crushing a man's arm was like squashing a small beetle.

Flash, who was now found himself between a rock and a hard place, which means in a tight spot, or "having his wrist being crushed by someone with Herculean strength, oh, and he also doesn't like you one bit", couldn't hold his anguish back. There was a crackling sound like someone stepping on a cockroach. Miniature veins were beginning to peek themselves out of Flash's mighty arm, and he screamed. Not a manly scream, but a scream of a man with his fist being crushed. That scream fully suited the occasion, as that was _exactly_ what was going on, so none were surprised, even though the noise happened to come from Flash Thompson.

Peter decided to end this. He pulled his arm back, and landed a fierce blow to Flash's torso. Normally, the victim of such a punch would only fall to the ground, but when a super strong teen decides to uses this fighting technique on you, you _fly back._ Flash was no exception to this "rule". He flew about 6 feet back and into a table, which in a chain reaction caused the bowls and plates to slide of the table and spill their contents all over the face of anyone unfortunate enough to get tossed into said table.

Everyone, literally _everyone_ had their eyes on Peter. Their faces portrayed a look of confusion, and some even fear. This was unexpected to Peter, who had cracked a smirk at the corner of his mouth. He was expecting praise, but received the opposite. Everyone scattered as the principal showed up. Their consequence:three days suspended. But Flash got one more than Peter:a broken arm.

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	4. CHAPTER 4: Lessons Learned Part 1

**A/N**: Wow, I've made it to Chapter 4 without even introducing Spider-Man! Oh, and I guess I made some parts too much like the movie, so they may be rewritten! I _may _use some of the story and villains from the original comic because I can't think of my own story as of now.

**P.S:** This chapter will be a long one!

**CHAPTER 4: Lessons Learned Pt 1**

"Are you absolutely sure your okay?" asked a worried Aunt May. Aunt May wasn't the person you wanted to worry. This was the fifth time she had asked Peter that question.

"Ah, he'll be fine, May," Uncle Ben said, patting Peter on the back. "He didn't even get hit. Dodged every blow. See, that's what happens when you eat your green veggies."

"Alright," May said. "But I don't like you being suspended like that. You've never been in trouble before, and the first time you do, you're suspended! It tarnishes your good name!"

"It'll be okay," Ben assured her. "After a few weeks, and after graduation, they'll look back at it and laugh. And speaking of graduation, looks like we need to save a little money for Peter's cap and gown."

"Oh, yes." May said with somewhat of a saddened look. "It's going to be a trifle harder now that you're unemployed."

Peter was rather saddened from listening to their conversation. A clever idea appeared in his genius head. He, his aunt and his uncle needed money, and in the next few weeks. Peter discerned that he needed to apply for a job. With his extraordinary

powers, he could get a better job than he could ever get without them. Peter needed... a newspaper.

Peter grabbed the newspaper from the kitchen table and headed upstairs. "Hold on, Peter," May said. "Before you go upstairs, take out the trash."

There are many words for argue: bicker, dispute, feud, quarrel, quibble, squabble, or just plain disagree. And as Peter did what he was told, and took out the trash, going out the back door, he heard something so fierce and intense it could be described any word you pick from the list, and quite a few more. It can also be described with the words cursing, screaming, smashing, and Mary Jane's House.

Peter placed the garbage bag into its rightful place, and then noticed Mary Jane walk out the back door of her house. Peter could tell she was in tears, but when she spotted him, she turned away and got rid of them.

She turned back. "Were you listening?" she asked.

"No. I was just taking out the trash. I was just about to go back inside. You're all dressed up, are you going somewhere?"

"Flash is taking me out to dinner. He wants to make up for what he did yesterday."

"Oh, him."

"You broke his arm, you know. What happened to you overnight? You could never do that before."

"Well I, uh..."

A silver Cadillac drove up to the front of Mary Jane's house. A tall figure with spiky black hair opened the door and stepped out. An arm brace secured his arm. "Hey, MJ," the person said. "Come see my new graduation present. I got it early!"

Peter was surprised at hearing the person, who was Flash Thompson, call the girl "MJ". This was a name only Mary Jane's closest friends called her.

"Well, I got to go." Mary Jane said, and left. "Oh my gosh! Look at it!" she yelled.

Peter felt slightly jealous of Flash. He was stealing his thunder, a phrase which here means "taking the attention of the girl he loved". He went back inside and up to his room, plopped down in his bed and scanned the want ads. He saw an ad for an analyst, a waiter, a hairstylist and a photographer. He chose to keep these opportunities on reserve for now when he spied an ad calling for a challenger to face a wrestler by by the name of "The Bruiser". The ad even showed his picture, as if an attempt to warn any challengers of what they were going up against. Anyone brave enough to challenge the hulking man --and pin him in five minutes-- would receive three-thousand dollars, enough for Peter's graduation _and _get himself a fancy car.

Peter would need a costume. He needed to hide his identity. He didn't want to reveal his powers just yet.

A few years back, Aunt May taught Peter to knit. Peter never anticipated he would need to use this skill in the real world, but he got to work. He borrowed some of Aunt May's red and black yarn. It took a few hours and few instances when he had to hide his project, but he made a black sweater with a small red spider logo on the chest, to symbolize the cause of his powers. The front legs of the spider reached all the way to his wrists, and the hind legs traveled to his ankles. When in complete darkness, the red spider and its legs would glow brilliantly. Peter also made a red mask, red gloves and put on red shoes.

"Costume: check," Peter said. "Now, what's a good name? Man-der, Spi-Man? Nah, too simple, I call myself, The Spectacular Web-Boy." It wasn't the best name, but Peter didn't plan on being a wrestler for very long.

Peter packed his costume into his backpack. He gathered a blue folder and some books and head downstairs. "I'm going to the downtown library," he told his aunt and uncle. As he walked out the door, Aunt May looked at Uncle Ben and said, "Talk to him, Ben."

"Peter," Ben yelled to his nephew outside. "Come here, I'll drive you there," he said. Peter, wanting to get to the Sports Arena quickly, obediently got into Uncle Ben's car. Nothing special, Ben drove him to the library.

"Thanks, Uncle Ben," Peer said, and placed his hand on the car door.

"Hold your horses, Pete," Ben said. "I want to talk with you. We haven't really _talked_ in a while. Look, I know you are changing."

Peter felt slightly scared. His eyes widened. Had Uncle Ben found out about his powers? Peter fixed his face, realizing Ben couldn't be talking about _that_ kind of changing.

Ben saw Peter's expression. "That's right," he said. "I went through the same thing when I was your age."

Peter chuckled, "I _really_ don't think so. I beg to differ."

"No, its true. For a while I didn't even know who I was. And I think you're beginning going through the exact same thing. You've been acting very strangely this week. You're fighting at school, and it looked as if you've were hiding something from your aunt and I."

"I'm fine, Uncle Ben," Peter argued. "And that fight wasn't my fault. Flash is always messing with me."

"But you did break his arm."

"Yeah, but...I was mad. I was tired of him tormenting me all the time. I wanted to show him a thing or two."

The phrase "show him a thing or two", as I'm sure you know, is a phrase which means "teach him a lesson". Peter had shown Flash a thing or two, just as he'd show a certain muscular wrestler a thing or two, and show a certain robber a thing or two. He shown Flash that he wasn't going to be pushed around, and also showed him how to break a man's arm and toss him into a nearby table. He "taught him a lesson" about gravity, teaching him that food doesn't stay on tables that bullies are thrown into.

"It's okay, Peter. I understand," Ben said. "At least you didn't do worse. You see, with great power comes great responsibility. Just because you have the power to, doesn't mean you must do it. You did a fine job at controlling yourself."

Peter looked away from his uncle. He had not done a fine job at controlling himself. He wanted to cause Flash pain. He refrained only because of his peers' looks of fear and because of the principal.

Uncle Ben patted him on the shoulder. "I'll pick you up at 10:00," he said with a smile. Peter nodded and exited the vehicle. As Ben drove off, his words echoed in Peter's head. _With great power comes great responsibility. _Peter dismissed these words. He thought he'd never get to apply them in life. After this, he would live a normal life, never using his powers for his personal problems again.

Peter did not enter the library, even though it would have been more beneficial for him if he indeed would have, as you will learn. Instead, he walked to the Sports Arena around the corner, changed into his costume in an alley, and entered the building. He walked into the stadium just in time to witness a man with a mask with two horns on it get body-slammed by "The Bruiser" and scream out in pain.

Peter got in the line of challengers. Man after man was either tossed, slammed, hit with metal chairs, or jumped on, and was injured. Finally, it was Peter's turn.

"You really should know," the lady at the sign-up desk said. "That when you sign this, you are agreeing that the NYWF is not responsible for any injuries that you can, and_ will_, receive during this match?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Peter replied, and signed the sheet. Of course, he couldn't sign as Peter Parker.

The woman leaned forward. "Have you seen what he did to those other guys?" she asked, pointing into the stadium with her pen as another poor soul was jumped on from the turnbuckle. "You're much scrawnier than those guys that are now in the back of an ambulance. You'll end up even worse shape than them."

"I'll be fine," Peter assured her. "I'll be different than the others."

The lady sighed. "Your funeral," she said. "Next!"

Peter walked into the stadium. He was behind a large white sheet. Large spotlights beamed down on the sheet. The audience inside could only see the shape of his teenage body.

"Hey, what's your name kid?" asked the announcer to his right. He wore a striped suit and sunglasses. "Come on kid! What's your name?" he commanded.

"Uh..." Peter said. "Spectacular Web-Boy."

"Are you serous?" the announcer said. "You won't be very popular with a name like that." He straightened his tie and stepped through the curtain.

"And the next challenger," he said. "The amazing, the spectacular, the marvelous, SPIDER-MAN!"

"What?" Peter said. "Hey! My name's Web-Boy!"

"Get out there, idiot!" someone commanded rudely. Peter, or Spider-Man now, was pushed into the arena. A cloud of smoke welcomed him. As the smoke cleared, he found he was on a ramp. He walked down the ramp. Because of the absence of light in the stadium, all the audience saw was what looked like a giant spider walking on its four back legs. They could only see the red spider on Spider-Man's chest, which legs reached all the way to his wrists and ankles. Peter climbed his way into the ring, and the lights above it turned on. "Hey, It's just a kid!" someone yelled. "He'll be flattened!" someone else yelled. "Give him one more chance to cop out!" someone else said.

"Oh no, Uh-uh," said a gruff voice in the ring. He was a big muscular man with a mustache and beard. He had on a black muscle shirt. He was The Bruiser! "He's not going anywhere!" he said. He pointed to Spider-Man. "You're mine!"

The muscle bound man ran toward our hero but, using his enhanced reflexes, Spider-Man jumped up, grabbed the man's head and pushed down on it, using him like playing leap frog. He landed on the other side of the ring.

The Bruiser was puzzled. "Stay still you pest!" he screamed, and charged again. Spider-Man fired two lines of web at a light overhead, jumped up and when the Bruiser was close, swung in and executed a bicycle kick, knocking the behemoth down. When Spider-Man landed on the floor of the ring, he heard a loud _ding_.

"Oh, shoot! Forgot about the time limit! Four minutes left!" Spider-Man said. He felt his head tingle, and tried his best to move as the Bruiser grabbed him with his muscled arms. He began to squeeze, and Spider-Man felt as if his bones were brittle. He did what first came to his mind, and kneed him in a place that will go unnamed. The Bruiser stumbled back in pain, holding the aforementioned area.

"Hey, that's illegal!" said someone in the audience.

"The ref didn't see it!" someone else said.

It was true. The referee hadn't seen it, but had been talking to a female. He hadn't expected Spider-Man to last this long. He got back to work when someone threw a few popcorn kernels his way.

The Bruiser had recovered from his "injury", though his walking was somewhat affected by it. Spider-Man heard another _ding _as the Bruiser charged at him again. Even though he felt the tingling, he was too slow to counter and was clotheslined by him and was on the ground. The Bruiser climbed up to the top of the turnbuckle and jumped off, almost crushing the super-powered teen.

"Ugh," was all Spider-Man could utter before his eyes became too heavy to remain fully open. His body felt like he'd been run over. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. He heard the spring of the ropes as the Bruiser climbed up once again. As he threw himself down at our hero, the tingling went off like crazy. He heard a third _ding_. Two minutes left! Everything slowed down again. A perfect time for it. Spider-Man gathered the strength to raise his left arm, and shot out a line of web. It stuck to the Bruiser's belly as time went back to normal. Spider-Man used what was left of his strength to slam the Bruiser hard onto the floor of the ring. He was out cold. The audience, 100 of whom had been rooting for the Bruiser, gasped and their was complete silence.

Spider-Man walked up to the Bruiser's body and placed one foot on his belly. The ref climbed into the ring, surprised as he was, and held Spider-Man's arm up. "WINNER!!"

Spider-Man smiled under his mask. In seconds, the audience was cheering his name. A new champion had arisen. "SPI-DER-MAN! SPI-DER-MAN! SPI-DER-MAN!"

"So, you managed to survive," the lady at the reception desk said. "You're the first. Just go down that hallway to your right, and the person in the room will give you your money."

Peter, happy to be just Peter again, hoping never to have to be Spider-Man again, did as he was told. He took off his mask and walked down the hall toward the room.

_Three-thousand dollars_, he thought. _The things I could use that for!_

Peter had already planned too use some for his graduation, some for a cool car, and the rest for material possessions. But his plans were shattered as he looked at the two-hundred dollars the man inside the room

gave him.

"You must be kidding," Peter said, chuckling. "You're supposed to give me three-thousand." His voice sounded quite angry. What could he do with two hundred? Not much.

The man didn't even bother to look at him. "All the money you're getting is there," he said.

"Where's the rest of _my_ money!" Peter yelled.

The ma stood up. He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a video tape. "Remember that low-blow you pulled off during the match?" he asked. "The ref may not have seen it, but I did. And I have it all on tape. You're lucky you're getting anything from me, so take it or leave it."

Peter was stunned. He forgot about that! It was his fault he wasn't getting all three-thousand. Peter took the two-hundred and let the room. He walked toward the elevator, angry at himself and the man. He didn't notice a man with a gun walk into the room he just exited.

"Didn't I tell you-" the man at the desk said, but when he looked at the other man's face, he was wrong. The robber pointed his gun at him and demanded money, every last cent he had. The man at the desk quickly gathered all the money and put it in a bag. The robber exited the room. A policeman saw the robber run out the room, became suspicious and gave chase. The man from earlier saw this and yelled to the policeman, "Stop him! He's got my money!"

Peter heard all the commotion and the man screaming to the policemen.

The phrase "revenge is a dish best served cold" implies that revenge should be something of great harm to the person who wronged you, not something of minor harm, like stepping on their toe. Peter only had one thing on his mind, and that was revenge. And when he turned around, he saw the perfect chance to apply the phrase and serve revenge to the man cold.

As the robber came close, Peter moved out of the way, allowing him to reach the elevator. "No!" the man and the policeman both yelled. The policeman was too late as the elevator's doors slid closed.

"What's the matter with you?" the police man said. "I saw your match. You could have stopped that guy in his tracks!" With that, he walked off, speaking something into his walkie-talkie.

The man walked up to Peter. "Why didn't you stop that guy?" he asked frantically. Peter did not want to believe it, but deep down, he felt sorry for him. He gave the man a one-hundred dollar bill. "You're lucky you're getting anything from me, so take it or leave it." Peter said, and walked off.

* * *

I hope this chapter wasn't a boring one! 


	5. CHAPTER 5: Lessons Learned Part 2

**CHAPTER 5: Lessons Learned Pt 2**

* * *

Peter decided to walk home tonight. This had not been the best day of his life. He needed to focus. There were many weird happenings in his life lately, what with the spider bite, the battle with Flash, the wrestling match, and being cheated out of his money. He wanted to rid himself of his powers, and fast. They caused so much trouble for him. So much trouble he thought it couldn't become any more worse. 

As Peter reached the street that his home was located on, he slowed, for he saw an alarming sight. Surrounding his house were several police cars, their flashing blue and red lights almost blinding him. Around his driveway was that yellow police tape that marked something terrible: a murder. He walked toward the border of the tape, his eyes alert. Lying between a circle of worried people was something that made Peter's mind race.

"No," Peter said. "It just _can't_ be..."

Peter ducked underneath the tape and bent down to get a clearer look at the man lying on the ground. There was no doubt about it. The man had the same gray hair as Peter's uncle Ben, and happened to be wearing the same clothes he had been wearing hours before. This _was_ Uncle Ben, as Peter soon realized.

After pushing and shoving through some bystanders, Peter leaned down to his uncle's level. "Uncle Ben.." he said.

He received no answer. Ben simply lay there, his old, wrinkled face frozen in an expression of sheer pain.

"Uncle Ben!" Peter yelled this time. "Uncle Ben!"

Ben stirred for a split-second, but slowly opened his eyes. "Pete..." was all the elder could utter in his current state. "Thank God you're here..." he wheezed, and closed his eyes once more.

"What happened?" Peter questioned angrily nearby officers babbling into their radios. An older officer, whom Peter alluded to be the very same police officer at the Sports Arena, but fortunately did not recognize him, advanced toward him. "A robber startled him. He needed a car. He wouldn't give it to him so...he shot him. I'm sorry."

Peter's eyes flooded with tears as he stared down at his uncle. He then heard the officer speak into his walkie-talkie, "Yes. They followed him from the Sports Arena to the old abandoned warehouse. They've surrounded the place now."

_Sports Arena? _Peter thought. _This is the same guy!_

Peter rose from his uncle's side. A look of utter anger was on his face. "No more," he whispered to himself. He would punish the wrongdoer, his uncle's murderer, as he should have earlier. Then all this would've been avoided.

He walked in a fast pace, and then broke into a run. Donning his mask, he thrust himself at a nearby building. He glanced toward another, and swiftly shot a web line at it. Jumping off, he swung in an arc toward it, landingon its side.

He was headed toward the warehouse.

* * *

He panicked a little, then calmed himself down. They would never get him in here, he discerned. The place was too ill-lit for them to. Even if they were to venture inside, he could waltz right out undetected.

All he needed to do was wait. Have a little patience.

He held his pistol at the ready, clutching it tightly up to his eye level. The light of the full moon shone into a window. This was not a good thing for him, so he avoided them.

Then, he heard a zipping noise, followed by the sound of someone landing on something.

Someone was there.

He strafed around, heading toward the staircase leading downstairs. He was in the clear when he was impacted by a figure, knocking him toward a wall. Dust particles and dirt formed a cloud where he fell to the ground.

The assailant landed before him, dropping off of a thin gray line. He could not see the face of his attacker, but saw glowing red lines all over his guise.

As the cloud dissipated, he, realized he had lost his gun. He fumbled around on the ground before grabbing it from where it landed. He rose.

"You...you're not an officer. Who are you?" he queried the stranger. Upon obtaining no answer, he yelled, "You heard me! Who are you?!"

"Shutup," said the teen, Peter, "murderer."

"I'm through with this bull," said the robber. He directed the gun toward the head of Peter.

"I'll take that," Peter said, shooting a web line at the pistol, and pulling backward, almost jerking the robber over his soldier. The gun went sailing into the background, going off upon hitting the ground.

"Who the hell are you?" the man entreated Peter again.

"You're not in the position to ask the questions here," Peter stated furiously. "I am."

"Wait a sec," said the man. "You're that wrestler boy! Spider-Man! You're the guy that let me go! Why are _you_ here?"

"You killed my uncle," Peter replied viciously. "and you will pay for it."

"How much you want? I've got about five thousand stacks here!" He opened his moneybag and pulled out tons of bills.

"I don't want money, I want revenge. My uncle was everything to me." He was tearing up.

"Here! I give you all of it! Just forgive me!"

"I said I don't want money!" Peter screamed, raising a fist. The man, now down on his knees, cowered. Good for the robber, he stopped. Remembering Ben's words, _with great power comes great responsibility,_ and also hearing the hurried footsteps of police entering the warehouse, he ceased.

When the troop of officers, armed with guns, appeared on the highest floor of the abandoned building, there, hanging in the window, tied with web and his mouth webbed up, was the robber, the bag of money with him.

Strangely, $2,900 dollars was missing from it.


End file.
